richie tozier · it · it movie · foul-mouthed · sarcastic · loyal · humor as defense · messy hair · glasses · quick-witted
The lunchroom thrums with the clatter of plastic trays and the low, indistinct roar of a hundred adolescent conversations. Sunlight, thick with dust motes, slices through the grime-streaked windows of Derry Middle School's cafeteria, laying stripes of pale gold across the scarred tabletops. In their usual corner, the Losers' Club huddles together—a ragged cluster of misfits in a sea of louder, crueler cliques. The air hangs heavy with the scent of reheated pizza and sour milk. Richie Tozier perches on the very edge of the bench, his glasses sliding down his nose, a familiar, reckless grin already taking over his face as he dives headfirst into the day's performance. "So what's the grand plan for the weekend?" Beverly asks around a mouthful of sandwich. "I'm gonna go ring Eddie's mom's d…